


Metroid crime

by NighttimePhilosopher



Category: Metroid Series
Genre: Courtroom Proceedings, Galactic Federation - Freeform, Gen, Post phazon crisis, Trials, a few headcanons of mine, including corrupt gfeds dont mind me, samus trusts nobody, slight references to the metroid manga, the title is stupid and came to me on the train but the story is serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 08:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18752302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NighttimePhilosopher/pseuds/NighttimePhilosopher
Summary: The life of a bounty hunter is being witness to a great many things. Many illegal things.Samus judges who is wrong and right in the trials of captured space pirates.





	Metroid crime

There's an unease as she steps into the chamber, her boots against pristine white echoing to a stop. Humans rise at once in their thousands, and it happens in complete silence, inescapably pulling Samus back to her police days. The space pirate, heavily bound in the centre of the room, is actually probably the happiest to see her. It spits insults with a rough tongue, which are translated by the gear strapped to its head for the court to hear. The pirate is promptly jabbed with a taser baton by the guard, and everyone once again takes a seat.

Her name is called by the chairman, distracting her from the pirate and the trigger itch in her right arm. She acknowledges him with the gaze of her visor, noting immediately that he is no Keaton. His species is the same as hers, but the visual difference isn’t concerning her. It’s the pin on his white formalwear, a glinting gold cross that designates his unwavering allegiance.

As she states her name and occupation to the court, she thinks about how she would prefer not to speak, to give evidence, to even be here. In her experience, the trial of a space pirate is whether or not it bests her in combat. It shouldn’t be here, in the centre of the Galactic Federation headquarters, far away from savagery, too close to formality. As much as it will end the same way, she’d prefer the Federation speak to them in the only language they understand. A courtroom was not the place to judge a pirate, neither is it the place for her.

Letting her helmet project her voice, she recalled to the court her version of events; receiving a distress beacon from merchant ships citing a pirate threat, racing to the scene and leaping in deep space from one piece of debris to the next, and taking out several offending space pirates before a Federation police ship intervened, calling her off and apprehending three pirates. She left off the part where a pirate was pinned in cuffs before an officer utilized point blank range.

That same officer gave his own testimony after her, his eyes on her every minute that he spoke. She met his gaze directly, but he would never know that; her visor opaque before she even stepped foot into the chamber. He commended her efforts before praising the post-phazon crisis Federation initiative -- the re-training of Federation police and soldiers to arrest pirates on sight, rather than shoot, and to deliver offenders before court.

Garble came from the pirate on trial. “ _I wish I was the lucky one to meet your nozzle.”_

The officer forced a smile as the gavel came down on the pirate for speaking out of turn. Quickly after, he was dismissed. Nobody missed the change in atmosphere, or the way the pirate’s mandibles chattered in what could only be pure mirth.

The pirate stated it was a commander of sorts, leader of a pirate band freshly freed from the influence of phazon. It had no mind to thank her as it growled out its testimony. Instead, it only accused her of removing its sense of purpose, and ruining its chances of making a living after the fallout. The prosecution pointed out the fact its band had been intercepted robbing a terrified merchant caravan in the Delta region. It nodded its head eagerly, affirming its ‘making a living’ statement.

A disappointing back and forth spanned the next 30 minutes, with the prosecution and pirate’s defence (if you could call a Federation lawyer that) prying every spec of detail free from a testimony ladled in heavy, dripping sarcasm, spitting at any mention of her or the Federation. They came to a standstill, seemingly sated with information that would ultimately not make a difference to the verdict.

Samus claimed the pause to press for the whereabouts of Space Pirate Commander Ridley. The air only twisted further, the Federation members’ discomfort tangible. It was out of her turn and place, but the chairman did nothing to stop it, still in his seat, until it started to derail.

The pirate let out a rough, gasping noise at her question, laughing at the audacity of the scene. It indulged her -- the _“third prosecutor”_ \-- and the audience to the fact that its group had been independent of any remaining pirate organisation since the destruction of Phaaze.

Samus repeated the question.

 _“I am working on my own.”_ It spat once again. Samus pushed, but both of them were tangled in the vines of their arena. The pirate knew this as much as she did, and the legal snare of disarmament let it needle her like no other platform did. _“And as far as I have heard,”_ it began leaning forward, as if a dignitary, _“you are the one privy to his last whereabouts.”_

It was true. Samus had seen phazon erupt from his mouth in spurts and gags, bursting lilac welts form on his shoulders and chest, pumped plasma into his heart as the dragon evaporated into blue, disappearing from the Urtraghus seed in a flash that sent her flying back, destabilizing the phazon that had been buried deep inside her. Regardless of it, she knew he was still alive, simmering as he rebuilt.

 _“Hunter, your great hunger blinds you.”_ It rumbled and clicked. _“You have run out of prey in this off-season.”_ It scanned its beady sets of eyes across the audience, all in white. _“Others should be wary of the green of your visor. Your true intentions are only known by you.”_

All eyes were now commanded onto her by a mutual enemy, and she refused to let the heat pierce her varia. Instead, she kept her visor to the pirate.

It switched to a different dialect, one that evaded the Federation translator until it could be quickly readjusted, one that it knew she could still understand, her own translator relaying the words.

_“You are outsider just as much as I. This is not the stage we desire to battle on, nor I wish to die on, but you will let me. And someday, bounty hunter, they will let you.”_

The three of them were put to death, heads painlessly seared off by the guillotine laser. Samus attended the event just as she did the trial, orange and crimson standing against navy blue and pure white.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to explore a shifty Galactic Federation. I mean, this is post MP3 so it's not too bad yet. I wanted to get in Samus' head about it regardless


End file.
